Page 66 of Coincidentally Kismet

“Bri’s not a model. Although, I can see why Cam would say that.” My lips quirk into a grin absentmindedly. Thatch would’ve loved hearing that his wife was model material.

“Not helping your case, Davenport.” Lo rolls her eyes and starts closing the door in my face.

“No! Stop. I didn’t mean...Bri is Thatch’s widow. Yeah, she’s pretty, but she is practically my sister. Please let me explain it to her, Lo.”

“Wait, Thatch’s widow, liketheThatch?”

“Yeah.” I sigh and drag my hand through my hair. My curls were already sticking up like crazy from all the times I’ve worried my hand through them today. This isn’t helping, but I’m losing my patience.

“Rambo? You can come in,” Cam hollers from somewhere inside the apartment.

Lo rolls her eyes again but steps aside, allowing me to enter. My eyes track over the disheveled mess. A bottle of wine, a pint of Chunky Monkey that’s half eaten and been left to melt, and abag of Doritos litter the counter. Cam is nowhere in sight, so I head to her room, slipping inside and closing the door quietly.

“Uh, Wright . . . you in here?”

“Yeah. Say what you need to say.” The lump of a comforter gives a muffled reply. The thought of Cam holed up and hiding under there makes me smile. Just a little.

“I didn’t come here to talk to your comforter.”

“Well, I guess don’t talk then, just get the fuck out.” Another muffled and surprisingly fiery response.

I ease my way down to the edge of the bed, slowly peeling back the covers. The image unfolding shatters my heart into a million pieces. A mess of blonde hair, black streaks on the pillows, and a tear-stained Cam wrapped up in one of my military-issued PT shirts that I didn’t even know she had.

“Hey, where’d you get this?” I ask while sliding my hand gently up and down her back.

“I stole it. Not that it matters now. I’m sure Miss Model McModelson has one of her own,” she says faintly.

“Th-That was Bri. Thatch’s Bri.”

“What? Why? How?” She shoots straight up into a sitting position, confusion etched on her face.

“Well I...I saw her a little while back at his grave site. I told her about you. She told me not to contact her until I got the girl, and...well...I feel like you’re my girl. I wanted to see her because she’s a good friend who has been through a lot, but also because I wanted to ask her to look out for you and be a friend to you when I leave.”

“Ugh! Rambo, you big dummy. Why didn’t you just tell me? I mean, when I saw you...I thought...well, you know,” she says on a sob.

“Babe, I tried. Please don’t cry...You wouldn’t let me explain.” I gently wipe tears off her cheeks, each one a tiny shard of glass cutting me in pieces. I hate it when anyone cries, butCam crying is another level of gut-wrenching. I’m well and truly fucked.

“No, Will. Why didn’t you tell me when I asked you to lunch?” She’s positioning me uncomfortably in the hot seat.

I rub my hand through my hair again before saying, “Honestly, it didn’t cross my mind to explain. You asked and I was busy, and I just...it didn’t dawn on me to tell you. I wasn’t trying to hide it, I’m just a dumbass.”

“I don’t mind that you see Bri,” she admonishes. “I think it’s good she still has you. I mean, she’s been through so much. But I need to know what this is. I’ve been thinking all afternoon how we never said we were exclusive, and you know, I just feel stupid.”

“Wright. We. Are. Exclusive,” I say while peppering her tear-soaked face with kisses.

“We are?” She looks at me with those big aquamarine eyes.

I cannot tell her I’m in love with her. And I am, absolutely, without a shadow of a doubt, but it’s too soon. I refuse to force my feelings on her if she isn’t there yet, and knowing her, she would feel obligated to reciprocate. I’m treading on delicate ground here. I have to keep my words in check while still making sure she knows I’m in this, for real.

“I know we said we’re just seeing where this goes, but I’m falling for you. I told you I’m all in. You’re my girl and I don’t intend to share you with anyone else, so yeah, we are—you’re mine...I hope.”

“I’m falling for you too. I mean, I fought it really hard. But I can’t help it anymore, you’re mine too. I think you always have been. You have to be honest with me though. No more unintentionally secret lunch rendezvous. Trusting you is really hard. I’m terrified I’m going to get hurt again.” I can see she’s trying to act serious, but there’s a hint of a smirk playing at the corner of her lips.

“I promise, no more secret lunches where I beg my widow friend to take care of my girlfriend. Scouts honor,” I say holding up my middle finger just to tease her a bit.

“Come here, Rambo. It would be a whole lot easier to hate you if you weren’t so dang attractive and sweet, you know,” she murmurs, pulling me closer and pressing her lips on mine for a deep, sultry kiss.

I reach my hand slowly to her ribs and lightly slide it up, leading her to believe I’m about to cop a feel, but instead I move in for the tickle attack. Cam bolts and wiggles and writhes away, laughing hysterically and swatting me back.

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